Why Did You Leave?
by PicnicAtHangingRockGirl
Summary: The night after Steve leaves Marcy, Al calls him to talk over how he feels about Steve leaving. Set in the first episode of "You Gotta Know When to Fold 'Em". Now has a second chapter showing Steve's point of view.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Married with Children is not mine.**

I am not rich man and I don't have a lot of things to take my mind off of how poor I am and how my life hasn't added up to much. But I once thought I had one solid thing that would keep me going until the day I died.

Steven Bartholomew Rhoades. What a name.

I won't lie to you and say that we acted nicely to each other everyday or even cared to ask about how the other person felt, but I thought we had something. I considered our mutual, but slight, disagreement with each other to be like how brothers feel towards each other. They may get into arguments and punch each other, but they still stick together. But I could only ever guess about that, I don't have any siblings.

I always wanted siblings. Mostly, I just wanted a brother who would stay by my side no matter what happened. I thought that Steve and I….

I guess it doesn't matter what I thought. Steve left Marcy. Steve left me. He didn't even tell me he was thinking about leaving his wife. I kind of regret all those bad things I said about her to him. Maybe, he'd still be here if I'd made his wife appeal more desirable.

But I'm no miracle worker and he had to live with her. He saw what she was really like. Although, I'm married to Peg, who's certainly no catch; but I stayed around. I stayed for my kids, even if they only love me enough to remember I'm the one who gives them an allowance every week. And I stayed for Peg, who I do love even if we get made at each other most of the time. I thought Steve and Marcy's marriage was like ours. No, I thought it was better than ours.

Ever since Marcy came storming in here, declaring her hatred for men, I've wanted to blame her for all this. I kept how I felt locked up, covering with some snide remarks about her like I normally dish out anyway. I just had to get back at her for what she's done. She made my fr--

She made Steve leave. That's what I've been trying to tell myself, as I sit up here at the top of the stairs. The rest of my family was able to get to sleep, but I can't get my eyes to stay closed. There's something I have to know.

I got up, hearing my spine give a painless crack, and walked down the stairs. I didn't bother to keep my footsteps quiet, the rest of my family are heavy sleepers. I tightened the knot on my bathrobe, clearing my through in front of the phone. My hand met its cool surface; it was ice cold because we never have the heat on in this house. It's not like we can afford it. It gave me a sickly feeling, crawling through my body. But maybe that was just from the steak I got my wife to make, saying it would cheer Marcy up. It also didn't hurt, when I said it might make Marcy leave.

I picked up the phone and began dialing the number I had secretly looked up in the phone book and memorized because of how important it is to me. I pressed the phone right against my ear, listening to the rings go on and on. Why doesn't anybody ever answer their phone after the first ring?

"Hello?" I heard a voice on the other end ask.

"Steve." I could here how desperate I was, but I didn't care.

"Al, is that you?" I heard him ask, like this was nothing.

"Yes, it's me." I said, mildly annoyed.

He asked, "What made you call?"

"Oh, I don't know," I told him sarcastically, "maybe it has something to do with you leaving your wife!"

"Is she taking it alright?"

_What about how I'm taking it?_, I wanted to scream, but I didn't want to start an argument with him.

"Oh, she was pretty shaken up, but she's fine." I told him calmly. "You know you could have told me you were going to do this."

"I've told you I wanted to be a forest ranger." I heard Steve say in shock.

"You didn't tell me you were going to leave." I said.

"I didn't tell Marcy either, you were fine with that." he pointed out.

I screamed, "But I'm your friend! Was it really that bad?! You couldn't have stuck around?!"

I heard his voice drop a little, maybe he felt bad about what he'd done, "Al…."

"You couldn't even stick around for me?" I asked him softly, hoping his answer would be to tell me he was sorry and was coming back.

The sound of the line hanging up struck my heart like the number 4 pump a disgruntled woman threw at me after it wouldn't fit her.

I didn't like Steve the first time we met, but he had become apart of my life. He was my one and only friend. The person I waved across the street to, when we were both walking to our cars that would take us to work. His car always looked better than mine and so did his life. I began to think about him like I do t.v.: that it's always going to be there. I never thought he'd leave.

I thought I heard remorse in his voice, when he said my name. Maybe, he hung up the phone because of how bad he felt. Maybe, he never really cared. Maybe our friendship meant nothing to him after all. I don't think I'll really ever know.

With all those thoughts blurring together in my head, I did something I hadn't done, even after all the hardships I'd faced.

I cried.


	2. Chapter 2

Does it make sense to love something you hate? I don't mean to sound like a character out of one of Shakespeare's plays. To love or not to love? Nothing like that. But ever since a certain moment in my life happened, the question has haunted me much more strongly everyday.

I met Al Bundy with my wife, when we first moved into the neighborhood. His wife, Peggy, had come over to our house first, inviting us over for dinner. I didn't really go in with any expectations. I didn't expect the Bundy's to become friends or enemies, just neighbors.

I'll never forget my first impression of Al Bundy. I was a little nervous, waiting on the Bundy's door step. Only Marcie had talked to Peggy, Al's wife, and I hadn't seen any member of the Bundy family.

All my fears slipped away after the door to the Bundy house opened. Al was the first Bundy I saw. He stood tall and work worn, like the way I'd picture a soldier come home from war. His eyes moved from looking over his shoulder, to Marcie, and then they settled on me. I felt lifted when he looked me in the eyes. I wanted him to like me, to find something he could admire me for.

Sharing the sacrifices and secrets of my marriage didn't frighten me with him, even if he teased me for it. But, even with all I told him, I still felt a tension knot my stomach. There were so many things, personal information, I wanted to share with him.

There were small traumas from my childhood he could have listened to. I wanted to laugh with him over anecdotes from my job. I wanted to bond, alone, at a sports game. Not that Marcie would have let me do that one. She never liked sports and she certainly never liked Al.

And at one point I didn't want to like Al either. He laughed and mocked me to Marcie because she said I couldn't watch sports. It hurt me for him to openly ridicule me. I had thought so highly of him. I felt like Malinson in James Hilton's _Lost Horizon_. He idolized Conway and then his heroic image of the man shattered.

But then we started talking. He shared with me a little of his "wisdom" on women and marriage. It struck me that, no matter how much I had denied it before, I agreed with him. I wanted to watch sports. I wanted to be a man.

I had the first argument with my wife that night, but all I cared about was that Al was proud of me.

However, as the years went on, I saw Al's life start to deteriorate. His once just livable salary became near nothing. The once ok-looking-house turned as worn out and tired looking as Al's eyes. And what hit me most, was seeing him drag his foot on the pavement to start up his car.

The man I'd once looked up to had lost everything that made him great, but for some reason I still admired him. While I put up with Marcie's tirade, all I hoped for was that Al would like me.

But as I sit here, in Yosemite, something sick and icy is filling my stomach.

The ringing of the phone had my shoulders jump up to my ears.

I just stared at it ringing. Was it Al? Something excited me about the possibility, but scared me at the same time. Marcie calling didn't hold a candle to what the possibility Al being on the other line did to me.

I pulled myself off the window seat and over to the phone. I put it up against my ear, feeling it's cold surface send shivers down my spine.

"Hello?" I felt my body tremble, but I was able to keep my voice steady.

"Steve." it was Al. The desperation I heard in his voice had me feeling my eyes thick with tears I held back.

For the first time in our relationship, I felt the need to hide my feelings from him. I made my voice sound nonchalant, "Al, is that you?"

"Yes, it's me." he told me in an annoyed voice. I figure I deserved that.

"What made you call?" was the question I asked, but I had wanted t say, _Do you want me to come back?_ I think I would have done it right then if he had asked me to.

His voice took a sarcastic tone, "Oh, I don't know, maybe it has something to do with you leaving your wife?" I figure I deserved that too.

"Is she taking it alright?" I could have hit myself just then. Why was I asking about Marcie. Al was who I cared most about.

"Oh, she was pretty shaken up, but she's fine." I felt relieved to hear him speak calmly. But then he said something that sent my heart dropping, "You know you could have told me you were going to do this."

"I've told you I wanted to be a forest ranger." but we both knew that's not what he meant.

"You didn't tell me you were going to leave." it stung in my heart to hear the crack in his voice.

"I didn't tell Marcy either, you were fine with that." was I actually arguing my action with him?

"But I'm your friend! Was it really that bad?! You couldn't have stuck around?!" his yelling sent the tears down my cheeks.

"Al" I couldn't hide the pain in my voice that time and I didn't too. I wanted him to be there, there to comfort me out of my soft voice.

"You couldn't even stick around for me?" I'd never heard him talk so quietly before. And that made me feel all the more guilty. How much pain was in that he couldn't even yell at me?

I know I'll always regret it, but I hung up the phone. What could I say to him that would make him forgive me? Why would he want to? I'd discarded our friendship like it was nothing.

But it wasn't nothing. That's what I realized as I stood there by the phone. Al's friendship was everything to me. But what made me cry again was what I realized next.

Now, I didn't have Al's eyes watching me proudly. I didn't have his laughter filling my ears or arm slung over my shoulder.

All I had now was the silence of my cabin weighing down my heart.


End file.
